


By The Sea

by twuke



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 21:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6301603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twuke/pseuds/twuke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moon poured in white behind the curtains. Iwaizumi's face lit up, and Oikawa felt starved. The desperate sadness in his stomach was replaced with hunger, a desire that flooded his being. </p><p>Iwaizumi could smell that desire on him, dropped his hands down on Oikawa's backside and traced circles on him with the dry tips of his fingers, waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By The Sea

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written a thing in my life before. I apologize if the layout is weird or if there are any inconsistencies in the work. English is a second language to me and this was all written at four in the morning on the notes on my phone.

The wind blew in cold from the sea that morning, bringing with it the salty taste of the ocean and the promise of bad news. Oikawa sat in the windowsill with his legs drawn up to his chest, arms resting on his knees with his head in his hands.

He listened to the howl of the wind that came in past the poor isolation in the windows, watched the tree tops sway to the melody of it with tired eyes.

Iwaizumi slept soundlessly in the bed next to him. He was sprawled carelessly across the linen with his tan legs tangled in blue sheets. Oikawa had left teeth marks on his exposed torso just a few hours before. The skin was still blooming red and raised to the touch. 

Shifting his gaze, Oikawa looked down on Iwaizumi's handsome, sleeping face. It was distorted in the dark but he looked more innocent like this. 

Out of all of his clients, Iwaizumi was the poorest, in terms of financial means. The hotel rooms he brought him to were always mediocre if not downright seedy. He was also the only one of Oikawa's clients that didn't take him outside of the rooms. Other clients would take him to dinner, flaunt him on their arm, showing off Oikawa as their personal eye candy. He had women who would wine him and dine him before they took him home, and men who brought him along to private functions before they took him to an expensive hotel for the night. 

Iwaizumi was always straight to business - had made that abundantly clear when they had met for the first time, two months earlier.

Back then it had been warmer.  
The wind hadn't been as cold, and the air had been tinged with a sweetness only summer could give it. 

He had met Iwaizumi while being in the company of a client. Their eyes had met and there had been an instant gravitational pull between the two of them. Oikawa had slipped him his business card before venturing off with the women under his arm, leaving Iwaizumi with an interesting look on his face - a look Oikawa could only describe as a curious scowl. 

He'd gotten the call a day later. 

Iwaizumi had met him in a puplic setting during his break from work. Oikawa acted casual, seemed almost lazy with the way he had been slumped in his seat, waiting for Iwaizumi to approach. 

 

"You look even better in natural lighting," had been his opening line, said with his warmest smile.  
"Those ugly yellow overhead lights from yesterday were almost sickening, don't you think?"

 

Iwaizumi had sat down across from him and completely ignored his compliment. He had closed his eyes in thought and taken out his wallet from somewhere under the white apron he'd been wearing. Oikawa watched as he opened it, a bi-fold in imitation leather, and laid out seventy thousand yen on the table between them.

"This is all I can pay you," said Iwaizumi. His voice had a roughness to it that had made Oikawa's pulse quicken.  
"It said high end on your card but I'm not a millionaire."

Something had sunk in his stomach. He had known they'd be discussing an arrangement but he had felt dissapointed anyway. Secretly he had hoped Iwaizumi would've talked to him about something other than the possibility of becoming yet another client. There was something about him that made Oikawa want to drop the act of the pretend boyfriend. 

 

He had played the part anyway. 

"This would be enough for the night,"

He decided to bend his rules, just that once. 

He had reached across the table and taken Iwaizumi's hand. He had turned it over and brushed the tip of his finger down his moist palm, grinning at the surprised look on Iwaizumi's face. Then he had taken the money with his free hand and placed it back in Iwaizumi's. 

"You can pay me when you pick me up later."

The way Iwaizumi had looked almost suspicious had sent a wave of electricity down Oikawa's spine. 

Then Iwaizumi had gotten all up in his face, regarded him with a playful gleam in his eye. The next thing he had said had surprised Oikawa. 

 

"When I first saw you, you blinded me with your pressence and it pissed me off," 

Oikawa had tried to read his face, tried to find any red flags, but the way Iwaizumi had looked at him hadn't felt threatening.

 

"There's something about you, though... I want to dominate you."

Iwaizumi had leaned back in the café chair, taken the money back in his wallet and closed it.

He had shifted and taken out a pack of cigarettes along with a cheap, blue lighter. When he put one in his mouth, Oikawa snatched the lighter from it's previous place on the table before Iwaizumi could get it. Not one to easily lose his composure, Oikawa had played along, flicked the lighter to life and casually reached across the space between them. 

Iwaizumi had seemed surprised when Oikawa had lit his cigarette for him. He had thanked him and puffed the smoke from his first drag out of his nostrils. 

Oikawa had stood up, dusted himself off for good measure and given Iwaizumi a smile. 

"Call me when you're done with work," he had said.  
"I'll let you enjoy your break."

Then he had walked away, Iwaizumi's gaze burning into his back. 

 

That had been two months ago.

 

They had only met a few times after that. The first time they had slept together, something in Oikawa had snapped. When Iwaizumi had put his hands on him, the warmth from his touch had been too much. The feeling was different, it was something he had never experienced with a client before, with anyone if he was honest. He liked having sex with his clients to a degree. Sex was easy, it was primal and something Oikawa didn't have to think too hard about. 

Being sprawled out on cotton sheets from Egypt, on a bed cut from mahogany had almost been enough to make Oikawa come when he had first started escorting. The thought alone still made him excited. Three years into the game and remembering the feeling of getting fucked against italian leather seats still made him shiver. 

He was into the finer things like that. He hadn't thought that he would ever be with someone that couldn't give him that.

And yet he had decided to break his rules, had lowered the price on his body and compromised with someone he didn't even know. Still didn't know. 

That first night together hadn't been enough for Oikawa, so he had broken his rules again. 

After the fourth time he realised that there were no rules when he was with Iwaizumi, just the stretched out version of them. 

 

A warm feeling blossomed in Oikawa's stomach as he sat on the windowsill with his bare back against the cold, grimey wall. He recognized the familiar sensation as melancholy.

Cocking his head to observe the smokey grey clouds in the dark sky, he sighed to himself thinking that it was only to be expected, this feeling of desperate sadness growing in his body. It came every year, a seasonal depression that clouded his mind during the winter months. 

 

He couldn't stand the heat in his stomach. Every year, it was too much. He unlocked the clasp on the window, opened it and let the crisp air surround him. It was so cold, the wind blew in and engulfed his senses, numbing him in his state of nudity. He took a deep breath and tasted the salt on his tongue. 

 

Oikawa unfolded his limbs and quietly jumped down. He had red marks on his leg from sitting with it pressed against the window, and his body ached from being held in the same awkward position for too long. 

He stretched with his back against the room, tried to admire the view from the window. It was still dark out but the moon lit the small town by the sea up with it's white, haunting light. 

 

He never could appreciate the sea from the luxury hotels in the city. There was nothing but bright lights and tall buildings there, nothing but smog and pollution to cloud his vision. 

 

Oikawa turned his head back to look behind him and started at the sight that met him. Iwaizumi sat upright in the bed, leaning back on his arms, his features distorted in the dark, body language inviting Oikawa in. 

The cheap sheets were pooled up in his lap, but Oikawa didn't focus on anything but Iwaizumi's eyes. They gleamed in the cold moonlight. 

 

"What are you doing?"

 

The roughness in his voice was even smoother in the early hours of the morning. It tickled Oikawa's core with it's scratchy nature. 

Oikawa gave him a tired smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and walked leisurely toward the bed. The crummy carpet felt too rough beneath the soles of his feet. 

 

"Iwa-chan, it's too quiet out here in the middle of nowhere. I can't sleep without the noise from the city,"

 

He sat down on the edge of the bed. The cheap mattress squeaked quietly under the weight of him. 

 

"Plus, the quality of that poor linen is itchy against my skin. How can you sleep on something like that?"

 

Iwaizumi regarded him with an unimpressed expression, too tired to retaliate. He gestured for Oikawa to come closer, lifted the thin duvet up for him to get under. 

 

"Your lips are blue. Get in before you catch a cold." 

 

"Iwa-chan, so considerate."

 

"What's with the nickname? When did I give you permission to give me something like that, huh?"

 

Oikawa laid down on top of him, rested his elbows on Iwaizumi's thighs and pulled the duvet up over the both of them. 

 

"It's the only luxury I've allowed myself to have around you. Your name is so long and time consuming, a waste of breath, really."

Iwaizumi swiftly cradled Oikawa's head in his hand, squishing his cheeks with his fingers.  
Oikawa's breath hitched. The look in Iwaizumi's eyes was intoxicating, his darkened features send a visible shiver down Oikawa's spine. 

 

"What the hell," he said and tightened his grip on Oikawa. 

"You're trashing my family name."

 

Oikawa couldn't look away, Iwaizumi's eyes were unwavering. 

When he tried to speak, Iwaizumi moved his hand to rest in Oikawa's hair. 

 

"Spoiled brat," he said and tucked on the unruly brown tufts.  
The motion made Oikawa hiss. He looked up at Iwaizumi with hooded eyes, a naughty smile creeping across his face from hearing the insult. 

Iwaizumi brushed his free hand down Oikawa's shoulder. It was spotted with fading freckles from earlier in the summertime. 

 

"You've got a big mouth on you. Maybe you should shut up and put it to actual use."

 

His raspy voice was like a hand between Oikawa's legs. 

Unable to do anything else without approval, Oikawa dug his nails into Iwaizumi's waist, silently asking for permission. 

 

That was how Iwaizumi liked it. Oikawa had clients who were into S&M, but this was different. 

They had only slept together four times, yet Oikawa already trusted Iwaizumi completely. Had complete faith in him, knew he wouldn't do anything that would hurt him. 

 

Iwaizumi eyed him with a mix of curiosity and lust. He smiled down at Oikawa, giving him a rough yank before he let him go. 

 

"You can't sleep anyway, right? You want to tire yourself out?" he asked in a murmuring, tender voice and forced Oikawa to look at him by pressing two fingers up beneath his chin. 

 

The moon poured in white behind the curtains. Iwaizumi's face lit up, and Oikawa felt starved. The desperate sadness in his stomach was replaced with hunger, a desire that flooded his being. 

Iwaizumi could smell that desire on him, dropped his hands down on Oikawa's backside and traced circles on him with the dry tips of his fingers, waiting.

 

"I'd love to," Oikawa said, eyes fixed on Iwaizumi's.  
"I'm just not sure you can afford it. This room isn't as crappy as the previous ones, which means it must've been pricy for you."

 

He couldn't help teasing Iwaizumi. It was so easy to get him riled up and the punishment was always worth it. 

 

"You pompous tramp." Iwaizumi slapped his ass. 

If Oikawa were a good boy, he would've been insulted. But Iwaizumi knew him, they knew eachother, so he felt himself lean into the sharp sting of pain instead. 

 

There wasn't any power play between them. Oikawa gave himself to Iwaizumi, let him fuck his face with dirty, quick thrusts and swallowed Iwaizumi down when he came in his mouth. 

He passed out right after, holding on to Iwaizumi's waist in his exhausted state. The last thing he felt before he let sleep take him was a soft kiss on his lips and an itchy duvet being pulled over him. 

 

* * *

 

When Oikawa woke up, the air held blue in the afternoon and the sunlight turned the ocean gold. 

He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and tried to ignore the loneliness that spread in his bones, turned over on his back.  
The window was still open but the grey curtains had been drawn infront of it. He sleepily watched the fabric get picked up by the wind, followed it's movements with his tired eyes as it danced in the cold September breeze. 

Golden rays of sun peaked through them and Oikawa watched as they painted the white walls with a yellow glow. 

The spot next to him on the mattress was empty but he heard the shower running behind the closed bathroom door. 

The room was filled with quiet, idle sounds of the town by the sea, the background noise coming from the opened window. 

Oikawa sighed. 

He noticed a small white box that stood on the nightstand closest to his side of the bed. It was wrapped in a lavender bow, the ribbon soft against his finger where he reached out and touched it. It was slightly laddered, cloud taupe. Something so exquisite seemed out of place in such a tacky hotel room. 

 

He could relate. 

 

The door to the bathroom opened up and Iwaizumi stepped out followed by a trail of hot steam. He wore a big fluffy towell wrapped around his hips.

Oikawa admired him from his spot on the bed. His spotless tan skin veined with blue. Iwaizumi looked over at him. 

"You wanna use the shower?" he asked. 

Oikawa pushed himself up in a sitting position, leaned back on his arms. 

"I would've joined you if you'd woken me up."

"The shower's too small. We're not at the Sheraton, in case you'd forgotten."

 

Oikawa felt the dip on the mattress when Iwaizumi sat down next to him. 

The towell loosened up, slipped down low enough for Oikawa to see the dimpels on his lower back. He got up close behind Iwaizumi and wrapped his arms around his neck. 

"Iwa-chan." he said, dragging the syllables out, biting Iwaizumi's earlobe. 

Iwaizumi turned his head to the side and Oikawa caught his mouth with his own.

 

It was sweet, the way Iwaizumi nuzzled into it and let Oikawa press their lips gently together. 

 

The kiss was refreshingly childish. It was innocent in a way that felt intimate as well. It gave Oikawa goosebumps and he saw waves of sea water splash against shore, behind his eyelids. 

Iwaizumi's towell dropped to the floor when he turned around to face Oikawa, made him scoot back up against the sheets. Oikawa sat with his naked back against the headboard and Iwaizumi dropped his head down in his lap, resting his cheek on his thigh. 

 

"Why are you so docile? Are you sick?" Oikawa asked and ran his fingers through Iwaizumi's damp hair. 

 

Iwaizumi squeezed his hips with his hands. He kissed the inside of Oikawa's milky white thigh, gently biting down. 

"I bought you something," he said and ran his tongue over the fresh teeth marks. Looking up at Oikawa with darkened green eyes he gestured toward the white box on the table with his chin. 

 

"Iwa-chan, how romantic." he teased. 

Iwaizumi mumbled something. His breath tickled Oikawa's thigh. 

He grabbed the box himself and dropped it in Oikawa's lap. 

 

Oikawa was used to receiving gifts but like so many things regarding Iwaizumi, this was different. 

 

He peeled the ribbon off the box and opened it. Nestled in white silk paper was an antique perfume flagon, cut in crystal with a golden bulb, the perfume inside it tinged green. 

He looked down at Iwaizumi, surprised. 

 

"Try it." Iwaizumi nudged him on the thigh with his nose. 

Oikawa took off the bulb and breathed in the scent - it was a mild masculine aroma, green with a freshness that carried. 

"What is this," he asked. "Daisies?" 

 

Iwaizumi took the delicate bottle from him and squirted Oikawa with it, a fine mist of the scented liquid rained down on him. 

Oikawa closed his eyes and let the essence engulf him, felt it fall on his skin. 

"Its marguerites," Iwaizumi said. 

 

Oikawa inhaled the scent. He could smell green fields and wild flowers, could feel all of his sins wash away under the grassy scent. For a second he felt like a little boy again. 

 

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes again was Iwaizumi looking back up at him, his handsome face tinged with a pink hue. 

"This is beautiful, Iwa-chan," he said. 

It was the most precious thing anyone had ever given him. 

"I love it."  
Oikawa cradled the bottle to his chest, already treasuring it. It was like a little bit of his innocence in a bottle. 

Iwaizumi smiled and got up off the mattress. 

"It fits you perfectly, doesn't it." he said as he found his clothes in a bag next to the bed. He squared his shoulders - proud - and got dressed without waiting for Oikawa to respond. 

 

A comfortable silence fell over them. Iwaizumi got dressed while Oikawa admired his new favourite thing, taking in the fresh scent from the golden bulb. 

At one point Oikawa had to get dressed as well. Iwaizumi only had the room until two and it was already a quarter to. 

Iwaizumi handed him his customary seventy thousand yen in cash when he was tying his shoelaces. 

The sadness came back then, flooded Oikawa with an unpleasant heat when he looked at the money. How he had forgotten his role as the whore was beyond him. He felt conflicted all of a sudden, too ashamed to accept the money.

 

"Iwa-chan, you don't have to pay me," 

Oikawa looked down at his shoes. "The cologne is enough, really."

 

Iwaizumi dumped the small envelope with cash in Oikawa's lap. 

When Oikawa met his eye Iwaizumi looked almost angry. He was frowning, but it wasn't like the usual grimace he'd pull after Oikawa had said something to insult him. There was something different to it. 

 

"That was a gift," Iwaizumi said, and Oikawa recognised the look on his face; Iwaizumi was embarrassed. His cheeks were flushed. 

"A gift is a gift, not a method of payment. I didn't buy it so I could get a free fuck out of you, I bought it because it reminded me of you and I wanted you to have it." 

Then he looked down at the watch around his wrist, an old silver rolex Oikawa knew had been his grandfather's. 

"We have to go." he said after checking the time, so Oikawa finished tying up his shoes and quietly shuffled out the door when Iwaizumi held it open for him. 

He backed Iwaizumi up against it when it closed behind them and kissed him until he felt breathless. When he pulled back a thin wet string of spit connected their lips and Oikawa thanked him for the present, voice whispery so close to Iwaizumi's lips. 

 

They went their seperate ways in the lobby, Iwaizumi waited for the man behind the desk to confirm his check out and Oikawa walked straight ahead toward the small hotel's entrance, exiting without looking back. 

 

The cold September air hit him the second he was out, played with his hair in the wind. He looked back up at the building he had just exited and recognised the room he had come from. It was the only window that was opened, curtains dancing in the wind. 

Sadness swallowed his being, weighing him down, and he missed those ugly grey curtains the second he turned around and walked away from the small hotel by the sea.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment or kudos! This is my first fic, and I'd appreciate anything anyone has to say about it! Thank you!


End file.
